All That Jazz
by PhantomInvader
Summary: AU!1920s. Young Sam Manson runs away from her rich parents, finding herself in a rundown speakeasy. After meeting a boy named Danny and exploring the joys of "The Pits" of Amity Park, a ghostly mob boss ruins it by holding the young heiress for ransom.DxS
1. Chapter 1

**I was interested in the 1920s, and therefore..._this _happened.**

**I actually like it. Duh. So, I'll try to update as often as I can.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, or the song "Ain't We Got Fun".**

**--Phanny**

**

* * *

**Samantha Manson, of the Ebony Avenue Manson's, had always been a rebel.

On June fifth, 1913, when Samantha was born, her parents had had only the highest hopes for their daughter. The rich, influential family to which the girl belonged were the trendiest, most straight-laced people you'd meet in the upper level of Amity Park, Illinois.

Not that anyone went to said town all that much. If you were heading to Chicago, you'd drive right through it after one glance at the Pits. Not even a stop to fill up those nice cars they had now.

The Pits were the lower half of the city. Only those good-for-nothing bums were welcomed there, Samantha's mother had told her. She was the one trying to get the rumored speakeasy in the Pits shut down for good. Samantha never saw the point.

The family she belonged to was good to her, but not in the ways she needed. Samantha grew up lonely, her parents always on business and no friends that held her interest, and became rootless and wild as she grew older. Now, at fourteen years old, she knew what she had to do.

And that is why she found herself where she was told never to go. Garbage littered the ground beneath her feet as she past building after decrepit, pathetic building. She tried to count how many of the homes and boarding houses were boarded up and "for sale". It would have been easier to count those that weren't. And the ones that were clearly had people still inhabiting them.

Samantha walked towards the source of the sudden explosion of sound on the streets. A large pool of light had filled part of the street: an open door.

"Out, ya no good bum! Come back when you learn some respect, boy!" The rough, gravelly shout echoed in Samantha's ears as she watched a tall, roughed up man run out of the light, escaping the empty bottles of beer that shattered as they missed their target.

Only when the door closed did Samantha dare to move again. The closer she got to the lively building, the louder the muffled shouts and laughter got, and the stronger the smell of smoke and alcohol became.

Bright light spilled out through gaps in the boarded up windows as the voices of men (who's slurred tones ensured Samantha that they were undoubtedly drunk) and music blared from the building, almost drowning out the giggling, light voices of the few women who were also there.

Taking a deep breath, Samantha stepped towards the door and opened it, hoping for it to go unnoticed. She didn't notice any pause in the festivities, and so she pulled herself inside as inconspicuously as possible.

"What do you think _you're_ doin' in here?" Samantha was face to face with a rough-looking, blonde-haired, violet-eyed boy of about her age. "You one of them uptown girls?"

"N-no," Samantha stuttered, "I-I'm just…new in town." After a moment, she got her bearings and smoothed her expression. "Lookin' for a place to unwind. Problem?"

"Yeah, there's a problem, you--" The boy was pushed aside gently.

"Dash, step aside," A much smaller boy said, his blue eyes staring at Samantha, "I got this."

"Fenton, I swear…" Dash began to back away, back towards where he had left his girlfriend sitting.

"_I got this._" 'Fenton' hissed more firmly, and Dash casually sidled away. "So, then," he turned to Samantha once more. "New in town, eh? Where ya from, then?" He eyed her suspiciously, though his voice was friendly.

The boy had black hira and blue eyes, and Samantha could have sworn she had seen him somewhere before. Only when he cleared his throat did she realize that she had become distracted, and that he was awaiting a reply.

"Oh, uhm, Chicago." Samantha refused to meet his eyes. The boy leaned casually against a wooden support beam as his gaze remained trained on her. "Just got in."

"Obviously," the boy said with a snort, "you wouldn'tve come here unless you had no clue where you were going. Or are you looking for a pick-me-up? That's what we got here."

Samantha looked around, seeing in full what the place had to offer. A woman was singing a rather nice rendition of "Ain't We Got Fun" on the small platform that was obviously supposed to serve as a stage. Men sat around with women next to them, women on their laps, and in some places, both at once. At the bar, large, sometimes dirty mugs and glasses were passed around, filled with beer and wine of more varieties than Samantha had ever seen, not that she'd seen much alcohol at all. Prohibition had banned it, and before she was twelve, she hadn't known of any places that possessed it.

"Shall I show you around?" The boy bowed in mock courtesy and took her hand. "My father's the innkeeper, y'know."

"There's an inn here?" Samantha asked, and the boy frowned.

"It's upstairs. Geez, I know it ain't much here, but it's not _that _bad." The boy looked at her more closely, "say, what'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't say." Samantha told him smugly. He quirked a brow and she sighed, thinking. "It's…it's Sam."

"Huh. Sam." The boy put his finger to his chin in thought. "M'kay. Name's Danny. I will be your guide for this evening. The phone don't work, toilet's no good, and don't touch Old Man Jenkins because he thinks everyone's a stripper and you'll get some unnerving requests from him."

"Thanks for the advice." Sam told him, looking around warily. "What d'you call this place?"

"For whatever reason," Danny began after a moment of thought, "people keep calling it _The Ghost Zone."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Ha. Update in ONE day. Thanks all you guys for a-reviewin'!**

**If I had anything to give ya, I would give it to ya. But I don't, so I wont.**

**--Phanny  
**

* * *

"I guess this is where I'll put ya." Danny opened the creaking door of one of the inn rooms so that Sam could step inside. The musty, gray room took her by surprise compared to the places she'd seen and stayed in all her life. The two twin beds were covered in gaudy floral print comforters, the floorboards creaked at the slightest step, and cobwebs covered the corners of the room and the small light bulb in the center. Sam gave it one more sweeping glance and smiled at Danny.

"It's perfect." She told him.

"Really, now?" Danny asked curiously, "can't have seen too many fancy places if you think _this _is tops."

"Er--no, I haven't." Sam recovered quickly, "I haven't--had the pleasure of staying and those types of places."

"Really?" Danny seemed to look at her skeptically for a flash of a second before his expression recovered. "Eh, stuck-up rich folks don't like us ruining their, uh, property values, was it? Eh, I dunno, they never seem to be happy with anything. Here, you take what you get and you like it. Or else."

"Or else what?" Sam asked, but Danny began to walk towards the next room, twirling his ring of keys idly. "Hey!"

"What?" He looked back at her, grinning.

"Or else what?" She asked more firmly.

"Or else Boss gets ya." Danny finished quietly. "He gets everyone, eventually. You ain't happy with what ya got, he gives you something…what he calls a 'present'. Something you really don't want, and you'll probably never be able to get rid of."

Sam was now curious at the boy's nervousness. "Like what?" she stepped closer to him slowly.

"Like Old Man Jenkins. He wasn't happy with the ladies so Boss gave him, like, X-Ray vision, I guess. He can't turn it off, now he can barely tell where anything is anymore. That, and it works on men, too."

Sam shook her head. "You're pullin' my leg, Danny Fenton."

"Believe what you want, lady." Danny crossed his arms and walked into the next room. "I know what he does, and you'd better not cross him." He said quietly.

Sam snorted. No ghetto boy was going to fool her into believing some story.

* * *

"Hey! Up!" Sam was barely aware of someone shaking her awake the next morning. As she opened her eyes, sticky with sleep, she saw a tall, redheaded girl looking down at her. Sam almost thought she was back at home, she would have never expected to see such an elegant looking girl in The Pits. The girl's teal eyes looked down at her warmly. "My brother told me to wake you. I'm Jasmine, by the way. Danny's sister."

"Mmhmm." Sam sat herself up and rubbed her eyes wearily. "Whass he want me for?" She asked sleepily.

"I dunno," Jasmine shrugged, "he just said 'go get the girl who came in last night, I don't care how you do it.' So I woke ya up."

"You wouldn't mind if I gave your brother a good kickin', would ya?"

"I would," Jasmine smirked, "that's _my _job." She took Sam's hand and lifted her off the mattress. As Sam tried to smooth her wrinkled skirt and blouse, Jasmine began to leave the room without waiting for Sam to follow.

It took Sam a good five more minutes to fully wake up and haul herself out of the room. The inn didn't look quite as festive in the daylight, and as Sam walked down the creaking flight of stairs, she saw that the speakeasy itself was nearly empty, save for a few early morning patrons. Jack Fenton, the innkeeper and owner of The Ghost Zone, was talking to his wife behind the bar, and Danny Fenton himself sitting at one of the tables, talking to his sister.

"You wanted to see me?" Sam asked, clearly not pleased at being awakened before at least eight o'clock. Danny smirked, passing off her annoyed tone and standing up to meet her.

"I did, ma'am," he gave another bow, like the night before, feigning chivalry. "If you plan to stick around, I feel I ought to show you around."

"Oh really?" Sam queried, "and what makes you think I'll be sticking around?"

Danny's face fell. "Will you?"

"Well, yes," Sam admitted, "but _I _will have the last word here, Mr. Fenton."

Danny put on a worn fedora hat on his head and opened the door of the building, holding it open for her. Sam stepped out into the slightly chilly air, and he followed. Sam noticed that The Ghost Zone wasn't the only thing that looked better at night.

Danny saw her stare and smirked. "It ain't no Chicago, but it's home."

Sam smiled slightly. "It's got a charm to it."

"You better stick with me," Danny told her, "Boss likes to go, uhm, huntin' every once in awhile. Don't let him catch you alone."

Sam rolled her eyes, but nodded. Danny frowned and shook his head. Why bother?

Suddenly, Sam saw Danny's breath fog in the air, and she heard a panicked cry from an alley.

"_Help!"_


	3. Chapter 3

**I've made a pledge to finish all of my stories before Halloween. I'll do my best.**

**So...read plz.**

* * *

"Stay here." Danny's voice was eerily steady as he ran towards the alley to find the source of the scream. Sam was not one to be told what to do, so as soon as Danny was out of sight, she ran towards the alley behind him. What was going on, and why did Danny feel the need to stop it?

A loud bang sounded as a gun was fired, and the result was the sound of a bullet ricocheting off of something metallic.

"Leave him alone, Boss." That was Danny.

"Daniel," the reply was said by a cold, cruel voice in a patronizing tone, "how many times must I explain this? My work does not concern you."

"The hell it doesn't!" Danny shouted back, "it always has since the day you gave me--"

"Move _aside, _Daniel." The owner of the voice was obviously losing what little patience it possessed. "Or I will have to _make_ you."

"Oh yeah? What else could you do to me?" Danny asked harshly, "leave him alone, and I'll leave _you _alone."

"I don't bargain with _humans,_" Boss hissed, "but, considering your _condition, _I suppose I haven't got a choice. I'm a man of my word."

"If you're a man at all," Danny grumbled. It was audible to Sam, but if Boss heard it, he didn't acknowledge it. "What's your bargain, then?"

"I'll let this one go," Sam thought she heard a sigh of relief from the back of the alley, "but if you try to stop me from doing my work on another, then you will go in their place."

"Go where?" Danny asked.

"Is it a deal or not, Daniel?" Boss ignored his question. There was a long pause before Danny sighed.

"It's a deal."

"I'll hold you to it." Boss said in sick satisfaction. Then Boss seemed to turn to his once-victim. "You're lucky I'm feeling so generous today, boy." He got no reply. Boss huffed, exiting the alley. Sam pressed herself against the outer wall of a building, hoping not to be seen. She held back a gasp as she got a glimpse of the villainous man. His skin was pale white, his hair was shaped like horns atop his head, and his eyes were a deep, glowing red. This didn't upset Sam quite as much as the fact that the man was flying.

Luckily, Sam was not seen. As soon as she was sure the man had gone, she entered the alley quietly. She easily spotted Danny helping whom she supposed was the victim off of the ground. She cocked her head to the side when she got a good look at them both.

Danny Fenton was friends with a colored boy?

"Thanks, buddy," The colored boy said with relief, "I thought I was a goner for sure."

"No problem." Danny smiled, "you know I wouldn'ta let anything happen to ya."

Sam gasped as the other boy locked eyes with her.

"Danny," the boy pointed in her direction, "you know her?"

"Huh?" Danny turned around and, as he saw Sam, scowled. "I told you to stay back there!"

"Well last I checked you weren't in charge of me." Sam said haughtily. "And who is this?" She pointed to Danny's friend.

"This is Tucker," Tucker looked at his feet as Danny introduced him, "he's a friend of mine."

"Really?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, really." Danny's voice was defensive, "is that a problem?"

Sam said nothing, and Tucker sighed.

"Danny, I'd better head home." He shook hands with his friend, "I'll see you later, right?"

"Sure," Danny nodded, "soon as I can get some free time we'll meet here, all right?"

"Sounds good." Tucker exited the alley, not even giving Sam a passing glance. When he was out of sight, Danny turned on her.

"I know how things are probably run in Chicago," Danny began, "but I don't like you looking at my friend like he's lower than you."

Sam glared at him. "I guess I'm just new to how you…do things down here."

"Yeah, well, now you're not." Danny replied, "I'm guessing you heard that whole fight with Boss, then? You believe me now?"

"Yes," Sam said begrudgingly, "I do."

"So you'll understand that I think we ought to wait until later to go on a little tour of the town." Danny began walking back in the direction of _The Ghost Zone, _"he's flying around looking for a fight about now."

Sam nodded, not exactly fancying a run-in with the frightening man. She followed Danny closely, and though he was not too pleased with her eavesdropping, he kept sparing worried glances back at her, as though making sure she was still with him. They reentered the speakeasy in silence, and Sam hurried up to her room.

* * *

Later that night, Sam sat at a table in the main room of the speakeasy, talking to Danny. He'd come up to her room earlier, asking if they could talk. When she'd asked him why, he'd offered the ever popular "just because" as a response.

"So, you and Tucker," Sam began quietly, studying any change in Danny's expression to decide whether or not to continue. When she sensed no threat of an outburst, she pressed on, "how long have you known each other?"

"Couple years," Danny shrugged, sipping the tea he had ordered from his father (free of charge, of course.), "and no, my parents don't know I talk to him. Jazz knows, though. She doesn't like it, but she won't tell."

Sam nodded, "I've never really spoken to a colored person before. My parents said not to."

"Your parents are pretty much like everyone else around here. I don't see what the problem is. They ain't that different, really. Tucker said his mom is about as bossy as mine."

Sam had to hold back a smile. There was now another reason for some not to think very highly of her parents.

"S'pretty different down here," Danny continued, "but I got a feeling you'll love it in a few days."

"I like it pretty well right now." Sam replied. After a long pause, she spoke again. "So this Boss character. He seems pretty…" She trailed off in search of a word, "terrifying."

Danny stiffened a bit, but nodded. He looked down, tracing his fingers over the water stains on the table.

"He's pretty much a ghost mobster," he said after a moment, "he offs you if you don't give him what he wants."

"And what does he want?"

"Whatever he can't have." Danny said dismally, "the only thing he's got goin' for him is that he's finally got everyone callin' him Boss."

"That's not his name?" Sam asked.

"No," Danny shook his head, taking another sip of his tea. "His name is Vlad."

* * *

**P.S. Don't call me racist for this chapter. It's the twenties, and that's how it was back then, kay?  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again!**

**Sorry, school started and...yeah. Phanny's a good student! Sorta.**

**So here it is.**

**--Phanny**

**P.S. To some of you (you know who you are) can you...can you _not_ review one of my stories just to tell me that I need to update the one that _you_ like better? It's very rude, and I promise I'll get it done.**

**Aaaanyway, read on.  
**

* * *

It had been about a week since Sam Manson had run away from home and taken up residence in _The Ghost Zone _inn and speakeasy. A week since she'd adjusted to new life in Amity Park, and a week since she'd met Danny Fenton, the oddest boy she'd ever met.

Sam had never met a boy that her parents hadn't set her up with, she'd never met a boy who looked her for her money and high position in society. She'd never met a boy who liked to talk to her just for the sake of talking to her.

Sam had never met any boy that she enjoyed spending time with so much that she'd go out in a supposedly dangerous neighborhood just to do so.

"You shouldn't worry," Danny told her as they walked to the store that Danny's father had asked them to go to that morning. This was farther than she'd ever gone into the city before. "Shifty as they may seem, most people here don't…_prey_ on ladies. Not when they got a tough guy with 'em, at least."

"Oh yeah?" Sam teased, "where's my tough guy?"

"And it is comments like that that leave you single," Danny pouted, "I'll just have to do, won't I?" He walked closer to her, putting his arm around her. "You are completely protected, Sammy."

She didn't know exactly when Danny had taken to calling her 'Sammy', a nickname she had always hated, but for some reason she didn't mind now--at least not when _he _said it.

"Is this it?" Sam said after a long pause as they had been walking. They had arrived at some sort of market, and she only knew that from what she could see through the window--the building had no actual sign explaining what it was, only a dangling sign on the door that said "Open."

"Mhmm," Danny murmured, his tone relieved that he had made it there just in time to see it open. Sometimes he got there too early and had to wait. "You got the list?"

"Yes," Sam held it up after picking it out from her pocket. Danny's mother had given it to Sam instead of her son. Apparently he had a habit of losing it on the way and forgetting what he was supposed to get. "Got the money, too."

"You'd think the woman doesn't trust me." Danny grumbled.

"Let's just go in," Sam snickered, "maybe we can get you some cheese with that whine."

"I don't think that's very funny."

They entered the store and Sam looked around. She hadn't really been in any kind of store before except for one time when her grandmother took her out while her parents were away. Her parents were so 'busy' (another fancy word for _lazy, _Sam always thought) that they had the shopping done by someone else.

There was just so much…stuff.

"Morning, kids," Sam started as an elderly man spoke from behind the front counter. She hadn't noticed him before. "What can I do for you today?"

"Mornin' Mr. Hayes," Danny said, "just doin' some shopping here. We got a list this time."

"'We'?" Mr. Hayes said, peering over Danny's head to see Sam, "finally found a girl, did you?"

Both of the teens' faces became red.

"She's staying at the inn, she's a guest, she's a friends, she's not--" Danny spluttered.

"Relax, boy!" Mr. Hayes laughed, "I'm just joking with you. There's no way you could wrangle a girl like that."

"Hey!"

"Again, I'm _joking_," the old man laughed harder, "you take things too seriously."

"Can we just shop?" Danny huffed, "let's just shop. We got the list."

Mr. Hayes, still smiled, though his thick mustache made it hard to see his mouth, he gray eyes were friendly, "well, let's see it."

Sam walked over and handed the list to the man, "his mother gave it to me so it would actually get here."

"What, is it 'Pick on Poor Old Danny Day'?" Danny complained from behind her.

Sam shook her head, smirking as Mr. Hayes grabbed a bag and filled it with the items needed. After paying the man, Sam turned around to see Danny walking over and picking up the heavy bag and hauling it out the door.

"Thanks Mr. Hayes!"

Sam followed him, waving goodbye to the store owner. Mr. Hayes smiled, watching the two teens talk as they walked away.

* * *

Later that night Danny was still awake, cleaning up after the speakeasy had closed for the night. Well, it wasn't exactly closed. The inn was open to all, but the bar and kitchen were closed until morning.

"These people are filthy," Danny grumbled, picking up napkins and dishes and other such things off of the floor before sweeping up dripped food and mopping up puddles spilled drinks.

As he was almost finished, he picked up the newspaper from one of the tables, left there by a patron earlier that day. Danny shook his head at the lack of consideration these people had for the person who had to clean up their messes. He was about to crumple the paper up in his hands when his eyes fell on the title of one of the articles.

"**Heiress to Chicago Deli Toothpick Industry Missing."**

At first he thought _'what kind of industry is that?' _before looking at the picture beneath the title.

"_Samantha Manson, the young heiress…" _The caption below the photo said. The caption beneath the photo of Sam herself.

'_What??'_

Sam was _rich, _her parents were _rich, _she was an heiress, and she ran away from it all! She was here instead! She was at the run down place, probably hoping he would never find out!

Well he _did. _He found out. He felt a mixture of anger and sadness churn in his stomach, and he threw the paper away.

Sam was an heiress!

Danny narrowed his eyes, the picture in his mind.

He stomped up to his room, not even finishing his chores. He wasn't angry at Sam because of her money or her family or the fact that she ran away.

Danny was angry nonetheless. He _hated _being lied to.

* * *

**I smell confrontation. And Febreeze.**


	5. Chapter 5

Turning the thought of Sam's lie over and over in his head only made Danny realize how serious this situation could be. Sam had people looking for her, obviously. What happens when they find a millionaire's daughter at a juice joint like the Ghost Zone when selling any kind of alcohol was illegal. His parents would be in trouble, he would be in trouble, they'd have to close the place.

Danny didn't turn around when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. He was still down at the bar at six AM, thinking. He'd decided that he couldn't sleep with the anger churning in his stomach making him feel ill. Though he felt tired as hell, the dark shadows beneath his eyes being proof of that, there was no way he could go to sleep now. He still had to get to work in an hour--something that would be a welcome distraction.

"Danny?" Sam's voice made him wince, and he was glad that she couldn't see his face. "You're up early."

Hm," Danny's tone was bored as he traced his fingers in circles on the surface of the bar, "didn't notice. Thank you."

Sam was surprised and offended that he hadn't even bothered to face her when he replied. "Are you okay?"

"I suppose not," Danny said, "couldn't sleep. Came down here and read the paper. Take a look at it--it's old news but interesting."

Sam gave Danny an odd glance as she approached the bar and Danny push the paper towards her. All she did was glance at the headline on the page and her picture before speaking.

"Hm. Horse named Whiskery won the Kentucky Derby this year." She said evasively. "Didn't know you liked horse racing."

Sam flinched when Danny finally turned towards her, his blue eyes cold. "It seems like I don't know much about you either, do I?"

Sam shook her head. "Danny, you don't understand--"

"I understand enough," Danny cut her off, "you run away from the fancy life you have, you come to the rundown part of town because the drunks and poor folk must be easier to fool than anyone else around here. You hide out here like a coward while people are looking for you and everything's Jake, right?"

"Danny--"

"Not even considering the fact that if those search parties of yours decide to barge in here, a nice little speakeasy, get the rich girl _and _get a little reward for shutting down the place and leaving a mess of people without jobs or places to stay."

Sam mentally slapped herself for not thinking of that part, and didn't dare to look Danny in the eye.

"And of course an uneducated boy like myself won't notice when you feed him a line and say you're staying here because you _like _it."

"I _do _like it, and that _is _why I'm staying," Sam was now growing angry at him too, "do you have _any _idea how hard it is to come by friendly people in Chicago? It's not like here."

"How so?" Danny asked, his lips formed a thin, flat line and his brow furrowed, "according to this paper you've got a lot to live off of there, what's your problem?"

"Okay, take you and Tucker. What do you get out of being friends with him? Money? A good image? A 'business relation'?"

"I don't get none of that stuff," Danny told her, "he's just my friend. I like him, he's a good guy."

Sam gave him a cool look, and he sighed.

"It…it's not that simple where you come from, is it?" He realized.

"If I could choose where I wanted to spend my life, Danny, it'd be a place like this. I'm sorry I lied."

Danny's gaze softened, but he didn't smile. "But it's true…it's not good for you to stay. I really like you Sam, but if they find you here it's gonna be bad. You don't want that."

"I don't," Sam sighed, "I'll leave if you really want me to."

Danny looked away, hoping she would read his expression. He _didn't _want her to leave. He wanted her to stay with him, more than anything. If it was up to him she would stay as long as she wanted to, but it wasn't his decision to make alone, it didn't affect only him.

"You should go soon," Danny sad, his voice low, "it'll be easier than at night."

Sam stifled the request in her throat. _Come with me, _she ought to have said, _it'll be easier if you're with me. _She knew she couldn't ask him to give up anything for her, but the desire to just ask him--to _tell _him to come with her was choking her. All she could get out of her mouth was a shaky, "all right."

Sam wanted to thank Danny for everything he had done, but the look on his face made it clear that he didn't want to hear any more from her. When she adjourned to her room to get her things, the word goodbye sounded like it had scratched his throat raw on its way out of his mouth.

* * *

Vlad had always preferred the name 'Boss.' Vlad was a mortal's name, given to him by his mortal parents, and it was a name that just didn't fit. He was referred to as Boss because he _was _the boss. He knew what few people dared to admit--he could do anything. With his power he could do as he pleased without consequence, but being the humble half-ghost he was, he used his power only for the necessary things. Punishing those who defied or displeased him was a necessary evil, as was gaining the things that had been previously off-limits to him. He had servants, loyal hit men that did as they were told without question. If there was anything Boss took pride in, it was his ability to make even the most unruly ghost unquestionably obedient. Boss had everything a man could ever need.

And yet he always wanted more.

Young Daniel was the bane of Boss' existence, his only mistake. The son of the love of his life had been the one person (a young boy no less!) that refused to obey any command given. Even when Boss had given him a gift that matched his own, Daniel had turned down any offer of help or guidance that Boss had so kindly offered. The stubborn boy grew strong and more defiant, leaving Boss at a complete loss for what to do with him. Daniel could not be persuaded to denounce his current parentage and offer his loyalty to Boss ghostly mob.

Then the girl entered the picture. The young woman had captured Daniel's interest the moment she'd arrived in town, and made his fondness of her easily known. His claim to be content with just friendship was false from the start, even if neither of them noticed it right then. The girl who made Daniel's heart swell had made the gears in Boss' head turn as he observed quietly. The fact that the girl was wealthy made it easier to find a volunteer for the new job.

"Skulker, I have a proposition for you," Boss began as he sat at a surprisingly normal office desk in a shockingly mundane office, "if you're not terribly busy." Boss offered a well-dressed ghost with shocking green flames for hair a vicious grin, letting him know that it would be a _very _bad idea to refuse the offer.

"I am never to busy for you," the ghost called Skulker replied automatically, "what do you need?"

Boss pushed the newspaper from the previous day towards Skulker, Samantha Manson's picture adorning the page, "what do you see here?"

"Seems as though a horse named Whiskery won the Kentucky Derby this year," Skulker observed, "but what--"

"The _picture_, you idiot!" Boss growled, then regained his composure, "you see this girl?"

"Ah, yes," Skulker averted his eyes after a glance at the photo, "isn't that the Fenton boy's girl?"

"It is," Boss nodded, "fetch her."

"How will I do that?" Skulker asked, "the boy's always with her, I…" Skulker paled as he saw Boss' lips curve into a scowl, "I-I'll do it, though. Sir."

"Good," Boss' gaze was hard, "I would be rather…_disappointed _if you were to fail. Besides, it's not like there's nothing in it for you. She's being searched for--and I'm sure her family is willing to pay whatever price you choose."

Skulker smirked. "You don't say?"

"Bring the girl to me, pick a price, and then wait. Daniel comes to her rescue, we exchange banter, we make an…_agreement _that's been put off for far too long, her parents pay her ransom, and the girl is free to go. I'm sure not even _you _can mess that up."

Skulker nodded, as though that alone would prove his worth. Boss gave him a long stare.

"Well?" He finally said, his voice turning hard, "_get to work._"

* * *

**FYI, a horse named Whiskery _did _win the Kentucky Derby in 1927. Wikipedia is good for some things.**


End file.
